Of Copper
by Airin
Summary: A fic written for Ballyharnon's Linenverse. Bill Weasley is 23 and is far from that fateful "Of Silver" meeting, trying to decide what to do with his life. Slash
1. Snakeskin trousers and Breakups

**Disclaimer…** This is a special disclaimer because I have to disclaim such a lot! First of all, I own nothing Harry Potter related. All of that belongs to JKR. And I don't own anything Black Books related. That belongs to Dylan Moran etc. Also, this whole fic is based on the world that Ballyharnon created using JKR's and Dylan's creations…..The Linenverse. To read "Of Linen" and its sister stories (also by Ballyharnon) please follow the provided link in my bio… It's a good idea to read them because otherwise you won't get some of the references in this fic. The Linenverse is used with full permission.

**Dedication…** Who else could I dedicate this to but the most exquisite Ballyharnon? She asked me to contribute to the Linenverse, and this is the product. I love her for letting me swim so happily in the Linen-pool. She is the best writer I know, and definitely the best fiancé. (Except when she stops me jumping on her bed, but then jumps on mine…;))  This is for you Sarah. With love.

**Randomness…** Men with other men. Don't like it? Don't read it!! This fic is about Bill Weasley. It is set when he is 23 in the Linenverse. (That is 3 years before Harry starts Hogwarts) He is currently not really working as anything or doing much.

~ **Chapter 1** ~

I stood in front of the long mirror pulling on the ends of my red hair. I had managed to grow it to shoulder length but it was not long enough yet to tie back the way I wanted. I might have given up, opted for a shorter style, if not for the incessant drone of my mother's voice nagging me to have a hair cut every time she saw me. It was worth the wait just to see her turn that dull shade of pink every time it was clear I had allowed more growth.

I left my hair alone, realising that pulling it would not make it grow faster. Instead I moved on to the stubble that was the beginning of a goatee. Another point of contention between my mother and I. As I stroked it I heard the voice of the third and final point of contention coming from outside the cubicle.

"So are you going to let me see how you look Bill, or are you planning to stay in there all day?" I grinned. Marcus. I pulled back the curtain of the dressing room, revealing the snakeskin leather trousers Marcus had picked out for me to try on. They were very tight, that being the point, and showed off my slender hips and long legs. Marcus grinned as he followed the smooth hide down my legs. He put an arm around me, hand stroking my arse.

"Perfect." He grinned. I grinned back. I was not 100% sure about the trousers, but I would have done anything to get Marcus' approval. He was my first proper boyfriend. The realisation of my sexuality came late to me, at 18, and I had only had casual relationships since. At 23 I was sure I was in love with Marcus. It felt amazing. He was everything I had ever admired in a man, tall, broad, dark and mysterious, with black hair, lots of money and a fast car. As a muggle-lover, obsessed with that lifestyle since my early teens, he was perfect.

Marcus glanced about, obviously checking if anyone was nearby. He then backed me slowly into the dressing cubicle and pulled the curtain across, obscuring us from view. He ran his hands down my hips, clearly delighting in the soft leather against his palms. He ran his hands over my arse, squeezing. I could feel the leather growing tighter as my body fought against it to grow hard in reaction to the hungry look in his eyes. I was glad my future did not include children, as it could not have been doing my chances any good. Marcus looked back up and ran his tongue across my lips, pressing his own erection against me. Then he pulled back.

"Turn around." He commanded. I turned to the mirror, watching his face over my own shoulder in the reflection. His eyes were lowered, watching my arse move in the leather. He ran his hands over me, pushing, squeezing. I wanted to moan, but bit my lip to hold it back. Marcus nudged my legs apart, bending me over slightly so my hands rested on the mirror. He then pressed himself into me, licking and biting my neck. He caught my eyes in the mirror and slid his hands down, unzipping the trousers and slipping his hand inside.

"Do you think they'd catch us?" He whispered. I wanted to express concern. This was a leather shop run by gorilla-looking men who did not seem homo-friendly, but the lust in the storm-dark eyes behind me was hypnotising. Instead I reached down and pushed the trousers down from my hips, placing my palms back on the mirror.

Ten minutes later we came out of the changing room. Marcus had the trousers slung over his arm. I followed him over to the pay desk where he placed them down and grinned at the leather-clad biker behind the till.

"We'll take them." He said. The £200 trousers were paid for on Marcus' credit card. As we left he reached into the bag and stroked the soft hide.

"You'll wear them tonight." I nodded. Of course I would.

*

I lay in Marcus' bed that night, him curled up behind me with his arms draped over my naked body. I usually loved going to sleep in his arms, but I could not get the events of the night out of my head.

I had met Marcus at a muggle gay bar. Before then I had never had the courage to attempt it, afraid to look a fool. Any relationship I had been involved in had been random sex with other gay wizards, most I had either known or known of at school. But that night I had pulled muggle clothing on to my slender frame and braved the club. Marcus had approached me almost as soon as I had arrived.

"_My my, here's something new. You haven't been here before have you Red."_

He proceeded to buy all my drinks and the night had ended back at his place, in the very bed I was lying in. That had been six months previous. We had been to many gay bars and clubs since, but this had been the first time that Marcus had taken me to Danvers.

Danvers was notorious for being openly sexual; partner swapping and group sex in every corner. Marcus had said he wanted to take me 'to show them all how pretty my boyfriend is' and that had turned out to be true. In my new leather trousers and a tight black top Marcus had shown me off as though I were a new car. At first it had felt great; I was thrilled that he was proud of me, but soon it became clear that he did not seem to distinguish between others admiring me by looking, and by touching. I had retreated to his side yet again after being mauled by two of his 'friends' when he turned and slung an arm around my waist.

"Bill! I was just about to come get you." He said, smiling. "This is Simon." I looked over at the stocky man who was openly leering at me. I took an instant dislike to him. "Simon here's taken a bit of a fancy to you sweetheart." I looked at Marcus; at the suggestion in his face and tone. "In fact, I've said that he can take you over there so you can give him a blowjob! Marcus spoke as though he were conveying the most tremendous favour upon me. He squeezed my arse. "Gonna go?"

I was shocked and backed away. The horror of the suggestion must have been clear on my face as they both laughed.

Marcus spoke to Simon. "See? So sweet!" The he turned back to me. "Come on Bill, no need to be so vanilla. I'm letting you ok? You'll love it. Simon has a great dick." Simon grinned at me and grabbed his crotch. I turned in disgust and walked away. As I did I thought I heard him mutter something and Marcus reply.

I found a spot at the bar, ordering a drink and creating an aura around myself that made it clear I was to be left alone. I was torn. Part of me wanted to leave, to salvage some pride and show Marcus that I was not an item of clothing that he could lend out to his friends. The other part wanted to apologise, to go back and do whatever Marcus wanted to make sure he was not angry with me.

I sat at the bar for about half an hour. It was beginning to get late and I was drunk. I still had not decided whether to leave or not and I hated myself for having to even think about it. However, Marcus made the decision for me. I felt strong arms around my waist and his voice in my ear.

"Hi Billy Billy. Miss me?" I turned to face him. He looked slightly strange, almost drunk. He was smiling madly and leaning against me. His nose was red.

Marcus waggled his eyebrows at me. "How 'bout you'n me do one an' have a lil party in my bed?" Sweet relief had flooded over me and we had gone back to his house, falling into bed.

As I lay awake I had sobered up somewhat and now I had a chance to look back it seemed only too clear what had happened. Marcus had been so friendly and buoyant on the way home, cracking jokes and snapping his fingers. I had read about muggles using substances to give them a buzz. One of the signs was a red nose. It also explained what I thought I had heard as I had walked away from Marcus and Simon.

_"Well, I guess you'll be paying with cash after all."_

_"Sorry. He's new to the scene. I'll speak to him."_

I felt sick. Marcus had wanted me to perform sexual favours in return for him receiving substances I knew where illegal. I lay awake for hours before finally waking at about 8am. I levered myself from the bed, decided. 24 hours ago I had been so in love with this man that I could not think straight and now I could not even look at him without feeling angry and heartsick.

As I dragged on some clothes Marcus drifted awake.

"Hi sweetheart. What's the rush?" He patted the bed next to him." It's a Sunday. Want to stay in bed all day?" I just carried on pulling a big Aran jumper over my head. Marcus looked more awake.

"Is this about last night with Simon? Come on Bill, I gave you permission, it wouldn't have been cheating." I turned and glared at him. I could see the shock on his face. I had never stood up to him before.

"It's not about cheating Marcus. It's about respect." I shoved the rest of the clothes I had left at his into my carryall. I paused when I came to the snakeskin leather trousers. I held them for a second, considering throwing them at Marcus' head, but instead grinned to myself and threw them into the bag. Maybe they would come in useful one day.

Marcus was sitting up now. "Respect? What the fuck is the problem? Christ, I wasn't going to force you."

"But you were willing to let me do that so you could get buzzed." The lack of guilt on his face was too much. I strode out of the door, bags in hand, and once out of sight apparated into my room at The Burrows.

*

Standing at the small sink in my room I had a quick was and brushed my teeth. I was missing Marcus already, but I was determined to be strong. I was not some little woman to be cowed by a man just because he had a pretty face.

I noticed an unopened letter on my bed. It had a small Gringotts seal on the back and I opened it out. A reply to my application. I had a preliminary interview in 3 weeks in the Leaky Cauldron. I grinned and filed it. Brilliant.

I walked down the stairs to the kitchen just in time for Sunday breakfast, surprised to see my place already set. Ginny ran over and hugged me, shouting my name over and over as though she had not seen me for years, rather than the week before. I asked how they had known to set my place and my Mother pointed to the clock. My hand was on 'home'. I grinned as I sat down. I was just glad there was no part on the clock for 'getting buggered'. I sat eating breakfast, listening to Ginny tell me everything she had done in the last week, and Fred and George effuse about their impending start at Hogwarts. I was home again.


	2. Interviews and Brothers

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Disclaimer... *Takes a big deep breath* Anything Harry Potter related is JKR's, anything Black Books related is Dylan Moran's and the Linenverse is from the talented brain of Ballyharnon. Phew. I own nothing but the plot. And Marcus. But would anyone really want to steal him anyway? Doubtful.

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Dedication... Again to Bally, for loving the trousers as much as I do, and for marrying me so early in the morning. Sorry to keep you from sleep, pet. ;)

~ **Chapter 2** ~

I walked along the street, knowing I had plenty of time before my interview. I loved London when there were lots of people out and about like this. It always seemed so friendly and, the major plus point, there always seemed to be an abundance of beautiful men around.

As I walked along I caught the eye of a man dressed in blue jeans and a tight white T-shirt. We held eye contact for a few moments until we had passed each other. After a second I glanced back over my shoulder to see him looking back at me. We smiled at each other for a moment before continuing on. I loved this fleeting on-the-street flirting.

I glanced at the time, seeing it was only 15 minutes until I had to meet my interviewer in the Leaky Cauldron. I began to walk there in earnest. As I did I noticed a man with short dark hair, black overdye jeans and a purple shirt. Aside from his obvious good taste in clothes he was stunning. A slight smile crept across my face as our eyes met. The smile was mirrored on his face. He had a heart-shaped face, sweet curving lips and green eyes. Again I glanced back after we had passed, but this time he had stopped and had turned completely. I stopped. We grinned at each other. I could feel an excitement building. There was undeniable chemistry. I walked closer and offered to shake hands.

"Hi, I'm Bill."

His handshake was firm, a good sign. "I'm Ishmael." He was smiling broadly, a faint blush brightening his cheeks. It gave a fantastic effect. I had a powerful urge to find out just how much I could make him blush and know if it coloured his whole body.

We talked briefly, both skirting the reason we had stopped. I was anxious to check the time but I knew the gesture would be misinterpreted. I could only have about five minutes left to get to the wizard pub. I interrupted Ishmael.

"I'm sorry, I actually have an interview in a few minutes, but can I meet you for a drink later?" It was unusual for me to make any first moves, but my haste made it necessary and it felt right to take the initiative, to be confidant. I was rewarded by a greater smile.

"That would be great!" He enthused. "How about seven in The Vent?" I knew that The Vent was a gay bar, a very nice one, quite nearby. Seven would give me plenty of time to complete the interview so I readily agreed before saying a rapid goodbye. 

I jogged towards the Leaky Cauldron, knowing it was too busy for me to apparate. I pushed through the door just under ten minutes late. The pub was virtually empty except for Tom behind the bar so I immediately spotted the woman who was to interview me, Miss Sheliac. She was dressed in formal robes, dark brown hair pulled back severely from her round face. There were parchments laid out neatly on the table and the look on her face could have rivalled Snape's best. I grinned to myself. Here I was, dressed in muggle jeans and a woollen jumper a size too big - one of the natty dark blue ones my Mum always made every Christmas – and late. I rolled my eyes and approached her, preparing to charm.

"Miss Sheliac!" I loaded my voice with joy at the meeting. Anyone overhearing my tone would think I was saying something along the lines of 'wow! I've won the lottery!' I could see the effect on the woman's face. I may have only been attracted to men, but that did not mean I did not know how to charm a lady. In fact, being gay simply made it easier.

She took my offered hand and I shook it warmly. "I'm so sorry I'm late. I was in muggle London and you know what muggles can be like, bless 'em."

It was a calculated ploy. If she was a muggle-lover, like me, she would see me as being amused and tolerant of them, but if she disliked muggles I would appeared annoyed and condescending. I hoped she was the former.

"They can be all of a dither can't they!" She chuckled. I warmed to her.

"I promise being late is not a normal state of affairs for me." I continued, dropping my bag in what I hoped was an adventurer-type manner. "Can I get you a drink as an apology for making you wait?" Miss Sheliac seemed flustered at my attentions and nodded, blushing slightly. I nipped to the bar and bought a butterbeer for myself and a sherry. Tom tipped me a wink and I grinned back. I carried the drinks over and placed them down with a slight flourish. I considered turning my chair around and sitting on it backwards, but that would be pushing it.

"I hope sherry is ok?" I asked. She nodded again, taking a small sip. I smiled to myself. In two minutes I had gone from being late and looking inadequate, to having complete control over the situation. Even if I did not get the recommendation I would be pleased at that turnaround.

The interview began as most do. Questions about my background, my schooling, how I became head boy...all the standard ones. Then we came to the more complex.

"So why are you right for this job Mr. Weasley?" I paused, stroking my semi-goatee as though in deep thought. I knew it would look better if I appeared to be taking the question seriously. I always had an urge to say 'I have no idea why I'm right. In fact I'm probably wrong. I just like the sound of the money...how much is it again?'

"Well, I've always been interested in doing a job that will challenge and excite me." I paused again and leaned forward, looking at her intently. "Can I be honest with you Miss Sheliac?" She flushed again under my earnest gaze and nodded. "I love Egypt, and I always have. I have books, gifts, nic-nacs, you name it. To me, treasure-hunting there for Gringotts sounds like the most exciting and wonderful job to me. In fact I would probably pay _you_ to let me do it!" Miss Sheliac seemed enthralled by my apparent confession so I went on, laying it on thick. "I love the open landscape, using my hands, getting to know the locals. I have that kind of adventurer personality." I permitted a small sigh as I sat back in my chair. "It's my dream job."

The small woman had a light in her eyes, lips slightly parted. I knew I had passed this interview and that if she could this woman would happily take me upstairs into one of the rooms and have her way with me. I grinned in spite of myself.

Miss Sheliac looked back down at the quill taking notes on some parchment. "Um...there are a few more questions Mr. Weasley..."

I interrupted her again. "Please, call me Bill."

"Um...Bill." She picked up the quill to stop it writing. "But I don't think they will be necessary. You are quite clearly perfect for this job and so i will be recommending that you are taken to the next level."

I smiled and looked surprised, thanking her profusely. I kissed her cheek as we said goodbye. She was leaving to conduct another interview in the Three Broomsticks and still had to floo there. I grinned as she flushed and waved from the grate.

I walked over to the bar, planning to get another beer and sit until I had to meet Ishmael. As I approached a laughing voice drifted from the corner of the apparently empty pub.

"That was impressive! From bad boy to star in about six seconds. She'll be dreaming about you tonight."

I looked around to see my brother Charlie grinning at me, pint in hand. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I exclaimed. His grin grew wider.

"I thought I'd come and see how you did in the interview." I wondered how he knew; I had told no one about my applying for this job. As though he had read my mind he held up the parchment from my room with the details on. I must have left it lying on my bed.

"Well you can buy me a drink for the privilege of listening then." I told him, grinning back. Charlie was basically my best friend. He was funny and possessed a very easy-going nature that matched my own. His first reaction to my coming out had been 'Oh cool! Can I come to some gay bars with you?'. I think it put the fear of God into my mother that she might never get any grandchildren from any of us. As if all of us would turn out to be gay. What would be the odds? She had nothing to worry about though. Charlie was as straight as an arrow, though he often joined me lately at gay bars and wished he were gay. 'Men are easier to pull than women' he confessed, and it seemed true for him. He enjoyed all the flirting and attention he received at gay bars, though he never followed through on any of it.

When I had realised my sexuality most of my friends had been great about it. There were a couple who had been awkward with me, but I still maintained a large group of friends from school. However, Charlie was my brother, giving us a bond that no one else could match.

Tom placed two cool butterbeers down on the bar and smiled at us absently while Charlie paid. We then carried them over to one of the many empty tables.

"So," Charlie began, "applying for a 'proper' job?" I nodded as I swallowed the first quarter of my beer in one go. Charming was thirsty work. "Mum would be so proud."

I grinned at him happily. "She would wouldn't she!" I paused. "So don't tell her ok?"

Charlie smiled. "No chance! If I did I'd miss hearing her shout at you every morning for wasting your education." We both loved our mother dearly, but took perverse delight in trying to make her a little less stressed out and a little more open-minded. That way Ron and Ginny might not have to endure the lectures we received from her.

We sat and happily chatted for a while. I filled him in on the details of the job and also on my split from Marcus, something I had not confessed to anyone at home despite it having been three weeks since it had happened.

I quizzed him on his love life, but he claimed there was nothing interesting. He was still sleeping regularly with his friend Antha, but neither of them were willing to commit to anything more. He did tell me about a job he was thinking about trying for in Romania with dragons. He was sure it would not be possible for him to get it, but was going to try anyway. I wished him good luck and promised in return that our mother would be kept in the dark.

After a while Charlie got to his feet and stretched. "I have to head off I'm afraid. I said I'd meet Anth for a coffee." I grinned, knowing pretty much what 'coffee' was a euphemism for. I told him about Ishmael.

"Oh yes? And what does he look like?"

"About yay high." I indicated with my hand up to about my eye level." Dark hair, very good looking..."

Charlie laughed. "Another brunette? I'd lay money that you end up with a blonde in the end." I laughed along.

"Unlikely." It was well known that I like dark hair and dark eyes. Charlie wiggled his eyebrows and waved his arms around dramatically, doing an uncanny impression of Professor Trelawny. "I see a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man in your future..."

I laughed and flicked some beer at him, then bending over to pick up my bag. "As long as he's a muggle and cute then I say bring him on!" Charlie licked beer off his nose.

"I'll see what I can do." He laughed.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out into muggle London as Charlie left to go into Diagon Alley.

*

I wandered along the back streets of London, occasionally venturing into quirky little shops along the way to kill time. I liked the small back-street shops. They always seemed to have more personality than larger stores.

I detoured down a street in the Newtown area that I had not seen before, spotting an interesting looking 2nd hand bookshop about half way down. Although the sign proclaimed it to be closed I saw a few customers inside and so ventured in. It was quite dark inside, books obscuring most of the light from the window. It had a gorgeous old book smell.

I wandered about the shop and found a battered old copy of 'The Songs of Bilitis' by Pierre Louys. It had once been recommended to me and I was amazed to find a copy as it had been out of print for years. There were some amazing carvings on the book, and though it looked positively graphic at points, I grinned at my fortune and turned to find where to pay.

Behind the desk sat a dark-haired man. His hair was dishevelled and badly in need of a cut. He was wearing a long dark overcoat, almost personifying the word 'scruffy'. At the end of the desk was a woman. They appeared to be working through a second bottle of wine. I placed the book down on the desk.

"Can I take this please?" The man looked up and scowled at me. I was immediately struck by a feeling of recognition. Did I know him? I felt I had never met him, it was more of a feeling that I had seen _of _him. He was muttering something to the woman while he rang up the purchase on a battered looking till. I shook my head, trying to dispel the feeling and handed over my money. As he handed back my book and change I asked what time they closed. The woman glanced at her watch and exclaimed.

"Bloody hell! It's quarter to seven!" The scruffy man nearly dropped his glass before standing up, pulling out a megaphone and demanding in an Irish accent that everyone leave the ship immediately. I had to grin at the plethora of curses he afforded us as I made my way to the door. As I left I noticed that the sign on the door said 'closed' on the inside as well as out. I laughed to myself. I would definitely have to return to the shop. The owner was my type of person! I slipped the book into my bag and walked onto the main street again.


	3. Drinks and Laying

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Disclaimer... Not mine. Nothing Harry Potter related it mine. And nothing Linenverse related is mine. I am making no profit out of any of them. Ishmael is mine though. Because he's pretty flushes when he's nervous and aroused. He's going in my adult toy cupboard...

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Dedication... To Sarah (Bally). For creating the Linenverse which is gifted in its complexity and glory. And to the "fairwelloclaire" person who reviewed on her site, talking about how great this fic is and begging the person to continue. I've been very, very busy over the last few months, moving and all, but your review made me make time to sit and carry on. Thanks!

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Random... Sorry about the wait folks. So much has been happening. Enjoy though!

~ **Chapter 3** ~

I slipped into the Vent via a side door, 5 minutes late. I had deliberately stalled for longer than necessary on my way, hoping that I would find him waiting, and watching the main door. I was in luck. With it being early evening the bar was just clearing of the after-work crowd and had not yet attracted the night-crowd. Ishmael had managed to claim a tall table, with metal stools and foot rests. I always preferred those to the standard tables. At the taller tables you could still see over the crowd.

I had no idea why I had wanted to make Ishmael wait slightly, and so come up on him without notice. I had supposed it was to make up for all the times Marcus had done it to me. I had made a conscious decision never to be the one waiting again. Marcus was the last time I would let anyone else control me to the point where I even dressed as they wanted.

"Hi." Ishmael's head swung round and again I saw his skin flush slightly. I grinned.

"Hi. I – though you'd be coming in the main door." He was looking up at me slightly, lips parted with a pulse beating rapidly in his neck. His nervousness along with the surprise I had given him made an appealing sight. No wonder Marcus had liked this so much.

"I was coming from the other direction. Can I get you another one?" I pointed at the mostly-finished drink on front of him. He nodded. I grinned at him again. Oh this was so much fun. This man was clearly attracted to me, and the more I took control, the more he seemed to like it. As I paid for two pints at the bar I suppressed a knowing smirk. I would definitely get my way with him tonight. No doubt about it.

*

"I never asked about your interview. How did it go?" We had been sitting, drinking and talking, for at least a few hours. The Vent had filled with men and a few women talking loudly over pounding music. I had never understood the reasoning behind loud music in a bar. If you wanted music that loud, you went to a club. A bar was for talking, but with the music – and crowd trying to be heard over it – conversations had to be shouted. The only good thing was that to be heard I had to lean right up in Ishmael, and he to me.

"Not too bad. She was a little pissed off about me arriving late, but I used the old Weasley Charm and she's put me forward for the next level." Ishmael smiled at me, rolling his drink in the glass.

"So do you often use the Weasley Charm to get what you want?" The question was clearly flirtatious. It was accompanied by a raise of his eyebrow. I threw back my head and laughed.

"Only on special occasions." Ishmael laughed with me. We grinned at each other.

"So what's the job for?" He lifted his drink to his lips, licking a small amount of escaping amber liquid from his lips. I was distracted by his tongue for a moment. He noticed and again there was the slight flush to his skin. I felt my trousers tighten. For some reason I found his slight discomfiture incredibly arousing. His skin was dark enough that even a full blush would only darken it slightly, but when it did he looked so beautiful. I couldn't help but imagine how he would look naked with that look on his face.

I deliberately looked pointedly over his shoulder to hide my momentary lapse and when his head turned to see what I was looking at I told him I thought I'd seen someone I knew. He seemed to accept it readily enough.

"It's work for a bank abroad. HSBC. Working for their foreign department in Cairo." I answered his previous question.

"Cairo?" Ishmael's eyes widened and I smiled at his shock. He really was too pretty. It should be illegal. "When would you be going?" I was flattered by the slight distress in his tone as he realised that I might be leaving the country. I laughed.

"Oh not for months. It's to fill the place of someone who's retiring anywhere between six months and a year from now. They're recruiting early to make sure they get the right person. And I fully intend that person to be me." As I said the words I realised the truth in them. My claims to Miss Sheliac had been dissembling, but that didn't stop the fact that I really felt I would enjoy treasure hunting. Wasn't it everyone's dream?

Ishmael smiled at me again. "Well that's ok then." We shared a Look before we both laughed slightly and took a drink. It was almost time for another round, but I had decided that enough small talk was enough.

"It's too loud in here. This is just stupid. I'm fed up of shouting. Shall we find somewhere a bit quieter?" Ishmael nodded his agreement and polished off the last of his drink. I did the same, watching him over the rim of my glass. He stood up and reached round to the back of the stool to pick up a jacket he didn't have with him. He grinned wryly at himself when there was nothing there and shook his head. As he turned back to me I turned to place my empty glass on the table, pretending I hadn't just seen the whole thing. Members of the crowd nearby were eyeing us openly and I knew as soon as we left there would be a rush to see who would claim the table first. I smiled and gestured Ishmael to precede me before following him with a not-to-subtle look at his compact body as he weaved through the crowd in front of me.

As we left the bar onto the fairly busy street outside the music dropped to a more acceptable level as the door drifted closed behind us. Ishmael turned to me.

"So where do you live anyway?" I suppressed a grin. This was exactly what I had been hoping for. An opening.

"I live out in the country at the moment. I was going to invade a friend's house tonight and crash on her sofa." I had in fact planned to aparate to The Burrows, but I could hardly tell him that. Either way it made it clear that I could not take him anywhere to be alone.

I watched as Ishmael worried his bottom lip slightly and nodded at my explanation. He seemed to be working up courage and I hopÛÛÛÝÝÝÞÝÝßßàäâããáäââãäæææççæääèçèçèëåèéäåããââäåâæäãäääâåçææåèêèêìíìêêèééæçëæååäåäãäâãæããääæåçççêæçèåæèçèéêççíìììëèsome great drinks there." He paused again before adding in a rush – "It would save some money on drinks out and get away from the crowd."

I knew I shouldn't have, but I was so pleased at my plan having worked that I stood looking thoughtful for a moment, appearing to ponder, making him squirm, before allowing my grin to spread. "Sounds like a plan." Ishmael's grin was part relief and part anticipation. I couldn't stop myself leaning in closer to kiss his curving lips and was pleased when my advance was enthusiastically received. After a moment we pulled back with identical dopey grins. I laughed and reached down for his hand.

"Shall we?" He nodded and we walked in the direction Ishmael indicated.

*

I aparated into The Burrows just after breakfast. Ishmael had needed to get to work and I had claimed an early train. I had his number tucked into a pocket and I fully intended to see him again. It had been the most amazing night. My imagination had done no justice to the wanton look Ishmael got when naked and flushed with arousal. I grinned again, remembering. I walked into the kitchen where my mother was clearing the table and Charlie was finishing off a cup of coffee. 

"And exactly where were you last night?" My mother stood with her hands on her hips, apron ties draping slðïïòðíîëëðíîííëêòìëôïïîëïñêíïîóïñïëííëìïîëìííïîìíììíííîíííîíïðïøûûuxuw~þûýóòùñôõñôïööóøôýûøxõû~üúv|õþôõõòïññïïïairs to my room two at a time. This was going to be fun.


End file.
